


He knows he’ll find love, only if he wants it

by Toomanyfandoms99



Series: Supernatural Season 15 Codas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Castiel, Bartender Castiel, California, Coda, Drama, Episode: s15e02 Raising Hell, Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Fluff, Happy Ending, Healing, Kansas, Lebanon, M/M, Post-Break-Up, Post-Episode: s15e02 Raising Hell, Post-Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Post-Fight, Post-Supernatural, Sausalito, Speculation, Tattooed Castiel, The Roadhouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 14:39:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21339868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanyfandoms99/pseuds/Toomanyfandoms99
Summary: When he sees a sign that says ‘The Roadhouse,’ Castiel nearly slams the brakes in the middle of traffic.Is this a sign?  Or a trick?His vessel’s stomach growls, leaving him no choice.  He flicks on the turn signal, and waited the allotted seconds to enter the parking lot.  Castiel finds a spot near the entrance, and he double-locks the car once he gets out.He remains on high alert as he enters the thematic saloon, and he swears he’s back in Kansas.Is Chuck fucking with him?Only one way to find out.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Supernatural Season 15 Codas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1517966
Comments: 10
Kudos: 135





	He knows he’ll find love, only if he wants it

**Author's Note:**

> This coda could be a way larger story, but I don’t have the time to write it all out.
> 
> Pronoun changes were used for the title, which is lyrics from “Look At Her Now” by Selena Gomez. I also included “Up&Up” by Coldplay, indicated with ellipsis.

‘I think it’s time for me to move on.’

Castiel drives without purpose, simply needing to get as far away from the bunker as possible.

He can never go back. He successfully burned every bridge, a trail of fire and gasoline following him.

This wasn’t his fault. He knew it wasn’t.

But it didn’t help the brand of fire from searing his heart in a heady burn. The unique brand would remain there forever, and the pain spread from his chest into his veins. Fire and blood.

He has no idea where he’s going to go. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

Isn’t that incredible?

Castiel thinks he’s gone mad when he leaves Lebanon behind and starts to laugh in the dead space of the car.

The laugh is slow and deep, starting in his stomach and shifting to his throat, creating a strange sound. He didn’t register it for a long few seconds.

Is this how he laughs?

A gummy smile tinges his cheeks as he makes it to the highway, and his eyes crinkle.

He’s never laughed like this before!

The laugh tapers off into shorter and shorter bursts, and the silence encompasses him once he speeds down the highway.

He’s free! And he’s terrified! And he’s excited!

What should he do first?

————

Castiel drives for days, until he is in a night cycle. The moon is high, creating enough illumination to hint at an upcoming eclipse.

He is in California. Castiel made it from Kansas to California.

He finds a twenty-four hour motel with vacancies and parks in the lot. He double locks his car and uses his powers to fill his wallet with American dollars. It is enough of a wad to get him through a couple days, but not enough to warrant being stolen.

The desk clerk is a goth girl that reminds Castiel of Claire. She rolls her eyes as she clicks off her phone screen and gets him a room key after paying.

When he is inside the farthest room, he passes by a room where a couple is fornicating. They are far enough away from his room that Castiel cannot hear it.

Oh, what he and Dean could have had…

Castiel opens the door unceremoniously and locks it behind him. The room has a bed with a maroon cover. There are multiple lamps, for some reason. There is a kitchenette and a wooden dining table for two. The wallpaper is palm trees and flamingos.

That’s the only thing that changes about motel rooms. Thematic wallpaper based upon the state.

Castiel removes his trench coat and tie, crashing onto the bed without getting under the covers.

He sleeps for a full day.

————

It is night when Castiel awakes again. He goes through a semblance of a routine for his vessel’s sake.

It is nine at night, and he slips his trench coat and tie back on. He ensures he has his room key and opens his car. He buckles up and drives until he finds a bar.

When he sees a sign that says ‘The Roadhouse,’ Castiel nearly slams the brakes in the middle of traffic.

Is this a sign? Or a trick?

His vessel’s stomach growls, leaving him no choice. He flicks on the turn signal, and waited the allotted seconds to enter the parking lot. Castiel finds a spot near the entrance, and he double-locks the car once he gets out.

He remains on high alert as he enters the thematic saloon, and he swears he’s back in Kansas.

Is Chuck fucking with him?

Only one way to find out.

Castiel finds a seat at the corner of the bar, a coveted spot for loners like him.

The bartender is a thirty-something woman with dark skin and silver piercings. She didn’t look like anyone Castiel knew, so he took a chance.

“What kind of food do you have here?” Castiel asks.

The woman, with the name tag ‘Sasha,’ replies, “your usual. Burgers and beer. Why?” Her chocolate eyes studies his face in a single swipe upwards. “From out of town?”

“Yes,” Castiel answers curtly. “I’ll have a burger and a beer.”

Sasha inclines her head and exits her station behind the bar. The kitchen door is at the opposite corner, and she disappears inside for a moment.

Castiel busies himself by studying the saloon theme of the bar. Cowboy paintings and saddles are in abundance, as is paraphernalia from the Wild West. 

Sasha returns with a basket containing his burger and an open bottle of beer. He thanks her and figures she would leave to tend to other customers.

But there weren’t many.

“Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?” Sasha inquires, leaning a little on the counter.

After warring with himself for a beat, Castiel replies, “Kansas.”

Sasha brow arches. “Kansas! Like the Wizard of Oz?”

Castiel shrugs, holding the burger in his hands. “I suppose.”

Instead of his lack of words dismissing her, Sasha is intrigued. “I can see why you need a change of scenery.”

She was making a generalization about Kansas being boring, but Castiel immediately thought of who he left behind instead.

He definitely needs a change.

Castiel must have frowned, because Sasha asks carefully, “is it more than just a change of scenery?”

Castiel eats and half-shrugs. He’s a terrible liar. Maybe if he plays along, she would leave.

Does he want her to leave?

Maybe not yet.

Sasha’s eyes widen in realization. “Oh,” she says quietly, “you’ve got a story, huh? What was it that happened?” She guesses, “did you get fired? Lose your house? Have an existential crisis?”

Castiel raises a skeptical eyebrow at the final guess.

Sasha half-smiles. “You’d be surprised how many of those I run into.” 

She narrows her eyes at him, and she gasps. 

“Was it a break up?” Sasha asks, pity reaching her gaze.

Hah. A break up.

Know what? It might as well be a break up.

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, softening her tone, “that really sucks. Did you love her?”

After verbalizing the pronoun, Sasha read his face, blinking to signify an awakening.

“Did you love him?” She amends.

Castiel suddenly feels violated, and he stares at his burger. He drops it in the basket half-eaten and grips the beer bottle neck. He swigs and sets it back down with a clink.

He says dryly, “you’re good.”

Sasha snorts, followed by a demure smile. “My girlfriend cheated on me a few weeks ago. I know what you’re going through.”

Castiel holds back an expression of surprise. “He didn’t cheat, but I...appreciate the sentiment.”

The honesty in his last words shocks even him.

Sasha places her palms on the tabletop, swaying closer. “So what’s the plan, man? Now what?”

Castiel swallows one of his final bites. “I haven’t thought that far.”

Sasha’s answering smile reminds Castiel of Jo. She even has a dimple on one side of her mouth.

“I’ll tell you what,” Sasha decides, her smile widening, “why don’t you stick around Sausalito for a while, and I’ll get you a job here?”

Castiel tilts his head to the side.

Sasha grins. “Yes, I own this place. And you seem like a good guy. Not at all creepy or anything. So why not?” She put a hand on her hip. “What do you say? Want to be spontaneous and say yes?”

Castiel finishes his burger as she makes the offer. He spends a moment contemplating it and realizes he doesn’t know what else to do.

This clearly meant something. He is meant to be here. Sausalito, California.

Why not?

“Yes,” he says.

————

Three months pass, and the unexpected happens.

————

Castiel almost doesn’t recognize them. The older man is incredibly wrinkled, aging so much in so little time that Castiel learns that fine wine can expire. And the younger man’s hair grew so long that he needs a bun to tie it away from his face.

...Fixing up a car to drive in it again. Searching for the water, hoping for the rain. Up and up, up and up…

The retro jukebox that Sasha’s new girlfriend Gina bought at an auction two weeks ago plays one of Castiel’s favorite songs. He turns his gaze away from what must be a mirage and continues wiping down the bar counter.

...Down upon the canvas, working meal to meal. Waiting for a chance to pick your orange field. Up and up, up and up…

As his hand makes circular motions with the wet rag, he recalls the first time he heard this song. Sasha was scrolling through her smartphone in the free hour between lunch and dinner customers. She asked Castiel to choose between two songs to add to the music mix, and he admitted he hadn’t heard of the choices.

Sasha gasped. ‘What music do you listen to, then?’

Castiel said sheepishly, ‘he only played seventies and eighties rock.’

Sasha snorted loudly at the mythical ‘he.’ It was how Castiel referred to Dean without saying his name. It was easier to think about him that way.

‘I’m going to enlighten the crap out of you right now,’ Sasha said gleefully. 

...See a pearl form, a diamond in the rough. See a bird soaring high above the flood. It’s in your blood, it’s in your blood…

They spent the next hour blasting different songs that Sasha liked, and this one immediately lifted Castiel’s spirits. 

‘So you like Coldplay,’ Sasha observed, pulling up a section of her phone listing the band’s lengthy discography. Castiel found a few more songs he liked by them. He also enjoyed a wide range of singers like Alanis Morrisette and Taylor Swift and Imagine Dragons. Sasha played them all, and Castiel hummed to them as he worked.

...Underneath the storm an umbrella is saying ‘sitting with the poison takes away the pain.’ Up and up, up and up…

Castiel removes the rag from the bar counter and leaves his post, Sasha registering him enter the kitchen space. The door swings closed behind him as he washes out the dirty rag, enjoying the feel of bubbles on his hands. 

Their cook Will is preparing meat patties for when customers order burgers, and he sends Castiel a little look. “Have you had time to think about it, Cas?”

Oh. Right.

...Saying we’re gonna get it, get it together right now. Gonna get it, get it together somehow. Gonna get it, get it together and flower…

Castiel hears the music floating through the crack in the kitchen door. He puts on his best smile and softest voice.

“I don’t think,” Castiel says to Will, “I’m ready to date yet. I hope,” he frowns, “I hope you understand. I don’t mean to disappoint you.”

Will’s gaze is melancholic, but sympathetic. “I’ve been where you are. I understand. I guess I jumped the gun, huh?” He smiles. “I tend to do that when I meet a nice guy like you.”

...We’re gonna get it, get it together I know. Gonna get it, get it together and flow. Gonna get it, get it together and go. Up and up and up…

Castiel hides a blush as best as he can.

What he would have given to hear Dean compliment him that way…

But no matter. It’s sweet. It’s flattering that Will sees something to desire in Castiel.

“Thank you,” Castiel says softly, drying his soapy hands on a towel and exiting the kitchen.

When he rounds the curve of the bar counter, the two figments of his imagination are still there.

...Lying in the gutter, aiming for the moon. Trying to empty out the ocean with a spoon. Up and up, up and up…

They are speaking with Sasha, wearing standard gray suits and blue ties. Their FBI badges hang from their palms, and Sasha is visibly concerned.

The mirage suddenly sharpens, and the weight of what is happening a few feet away from him crashes on Castiel like the very beach waves near the bar. The beach waves he enjoys dipping his feet into when he awakes at dawn and Sausalito is quiet.

...See the forest staring at every seed. Angels in the marble waiting to be freed. Just need love, Just need love…

The lyrics drifting towards the bar counter juxtapose with a memory playing behind Castiel’s eyelids. The memory of being able to earn an honest paycheck and rent an apartment on the Schoonmaker beachfront. The memory of waking from a nightmare and padding in his pajamas outside. The memory of the sun rising over the beach, watching water and heat come together to bring forth one of the truest wonders of the world.

Castiel’s bare feet sunk into the deserted sands as sea foam tickled his toes. He walked along the shore until he forgot his nightmare. And he walked for hours until his shift at work, until crowds started to gather and he felt at peace.

The memory ends when three heads turn to the side, looking right at him.

...When the going is rough saying, we’re gonna get it, get it together right now. Gonna get it, get it together somehow. Gonna get it, get it together and flower…

Sam’s is the easiest expression to take. His is one of pure shock, but also one of genuine relief.

Sam is always happy to see him.

...We’re gonna get it, get it together I know. Gonna get it, get it together and flow. Gonna get it, get it together and go…

Dean’s expression transforms from one of defeat to utterly incredulous at Castiel’s presence.

Castiel wants to laugh.

Dean doesn’t blink as he absorbs Castiel inside the western-themed bar, his lips parting.

He whispers, his voice parched and his gaze a tumultuous wreck, “Cas?”

...And you can say what is, or fight for it. Close your mind and take a risk…

Castiel hasn’t breathed in a solid five seconds, and his chest collapses in a forced exhale.

Sasha advances between them, eyes wide as she studies Castiel. She reads the situation as easily as she read him the first time they met.

...You can say ‘it’s mine’ and clench your fist, or see each sunrise as a gift…

Sasha’s gaze is hard and protective as she looks between the two strangers, then at Castiel. “Which one is it?”

‘He took ten years from me,’ Castiel said once, tired from a twelve-hour shift. He was so exhausted that his mind was swimming with the image of smiting his own son to death.

That was Belphegor. Not Jack. It was Belphegor.

And Castiel knew he did the right thing.

The one who did ‘it,’ according to Sasha, surely wasn’t Sam.

Castiel nudges his head towards the blonde man. His voice is gruff as he says coldly, “Dean.”

...We’re gonna get it, get it together right now. Gonna get it, get it together somehow. Gonna get it, get it together and flower…

Dean falls apart at the detachment in Castiel’s voice. Castiel almost thinks it isn’t real.

But Dean, to put it lightly, is a mess. It has to be real. Something has to be real.

‘You asked me if any of this is real,’ Castiel’s voice echoed in his own mind. ‘We are.’

A lump forms in Castiel’s throat.

...We’re gonna get it, get it together I know. Gonna get it, get it together and flow. Gonna get it, get it together and go. Up and up and up…

Sasha stares between Castiel and Dean, arching a very critical eyebrow at Dean. Castiel adores his friend for it.

“Do you want him to go?” Sasha asks curtly, immense concern for Castiel playing about her features.

Castiel realizes that he holds all the cards in this situation. He bites back a snicker.

“It’s alright,” Castiel says, lashes hanging lazily over his gaze to express an uncaring attitude, “I’ll handle it.”

Sasha allows a prideful smile to reach Castiel before she turns tail. The kitchen door is pushed open and swings closed as she leaves the bar area.

...We’re gonna get it, get it together right now. Gonna get it, get it together somehow. Gonna get it, get it together and flower...

It’s the three of them alone again, for the first time since Castiel left his entire life behind.

Castiel walks behind the bar counter, and Sam sits in a stool incredulously. 

With an agape mouth, Sam says, “I’m so glad you’re alright, Cas. We’ve been looking for you for months.”

...We’re gonna get it, get it together I know. Gonna get it, get it together and flow. Gonna get it, get it together and go. Up and up…

Castiel sets his gaze on Dean as he takes the stool beside his brother. “Is that right?” He asks gruffly.

Dean, Castiel thinks, expressed more in this moment on his face than a decade of knowing him.

Dean says, “I-I’ve missed you, Cas. I’ve missed you a lot.”

His gaze darts away, scared and unsure, but Sam’s steady stare at Dean encourages him to continue.

Dean looks back at Castiel. “I-I need you. I need you more than I thought I did. I-I’ve been looking for you since the day after you left. I thought you should know that, Cas. I need you.”

...Fixing up a car to drive in it again. When you’re in pain, when you think you’ve had enough, don’t ever give up... 

Castiel isn’t one to fall into foxholes twice. He has to tread carefully. 

He refuses to become the lovesick fool again.

“You need me,” Castiel says nonchalantly, “but I’ve found that,” he leans a little on the counter, “I don’t need you. So what makes you think,” his gaze is critical, “I would even come back?”

...Don’t ever give up…

The seven-minute song ends so abruptly that Castiel realizes he’s been in a trance ever since it began.

But this is real. Not a dream.

Dean and Sam are really here right now.

And his words are so harsh that Dean’s demeanor shrinks before his eyes. Sam’s presence between a very private conversation is acute, but Castiel finds it calming. Even helpful.

Dean clears his throat awkwardly, his gaze dashing about to express discomfort. Castiel does not give him an inch of wiggle room.

If Dean is going to say something, he’s going to say it with no frills.

Dean is forlorn as he glances at the wooden bar counter. “You don’t have to come back. I was a complete douchebag to you, Cas. I didn’t stop to think,” he pauses, his lip wobbling, “what losing Jack must have done to you.”

Castiel wants to grit his teeth and spit ‘don’t you dare say his name.’

But that is something Dean would do. Castiel would never follow in his footsteps.

“You know what?” Dean’s eyes are wide as he regards Castiel fully. “Why don’t I stay here? That way you won’t have to come back.” His voice becomes quiet and fragile. “I’ll stay here with you.”

Sam glances between the two of them, eyes blown wide at what Dean is insinuating. Sam’s mouth pulls back to reveal a grin.

The prospect to Castiel is something so spontaneous and strange that he doesn’t think Dean is saying it.

Is he being serious?

To test him, Castiel places a hand on his hip. Their conversation has gone way past friendship. What Dean wants is something intimate.

Something real.

Castiel recalls the instances in the past weeks that he’s received flirtatious pickup lines. The amount of times it happened, from both men and women, made it onto two hands.

He smirks and says, “if you’re willing to get in line with my other suitors,” the final word has Dean’s eyes widening before Castiel continues, “I suppose I cannot tell you to leave here forever.”

Dean’s breath hitches, but it isn’t because he’s surprised; his green eyes tell Castiel that he knows all about Castiel’s attractiveness.

His breath hitches because he has never fought for Castiel before.

Nevertheless, Dean does not cower in the face of a challenge. Instead, he replies, “I’ll sharpen my machete.”

Castiel can’t help the amused half-smile that reaches his face.

————

Three months, and Dean doesn’t leave like Castiel thought he would.

————

Two more months, and Castiel understands that Dean is in love with him. Properly this time.

————

Four months pass, and Castiel realizes that he’s been in Sausalito for an entire year.

He gazes upon the rising sun as his bare feet dig into the sand. He absently registers a swipe of sea foam brush his toes as the ocean is overcast in blood orange light.

Staring at the sun never gets old. It’s the only thing that calms him after waking in a cold sweat.

Hands wrap from behind his back and settle on his stomach. A chest aligns itself against his back, and he sinks into it. A chin tucks on his shoulder and a kiss is pressed to his neck.

“Nightmare?” Dean prompts in a hum.

Castiel places his hands atop Dean’s, a warmth in his stomach. He cannot prevent a flash of heat from flaring up his cheeks, and he tips his head back a little.

“It was Rowena this time,” Castiel murmurs.

The simmer of waves against hot sand fills the following silence.

Dean’s nose buries into his neck, a mumble tickling Castiel’s skin. “It couldn’t be helped. It was her decision to make.”

“Yeah,” Castiel says forlornly, because it’s the only empty word to say in this situation.

“It’s going to be like this forever,” Dean rumbles, “I think. We just have to do our best, Cas.”

It was no small task for Dean to be the best version of himself. His drive to do better, to be better, kept Castiel intrigued. All the times that he expected Dean to crack and give up and run away were infinite. Dean surprised Castiel when he became more determined than ever with every passing day. 

‘I hope you’re guarding your heart,’ Sasha said after meeting Dean and finding him to be not the worst guy in the world. ‘Just because he’s being nice now doesn’t guarantee that he’ll act like this forever.’

‘I know,’ Castiel murmured, his stubborn walls remaining erected high. ‘I refuse to make the same mistake twice.’

Sasha smirked at him, her eyes glittering. ‘You’ve changed for the better. Don’t let him take away the progress you’ve made.’

‘Never,’ Castiel agreed fiercely.

Castiel pushes Dean’s hands away from his stomach and turns around. Dean’s arms ghost his sides as Castiel splays palms on Dean’s chest to steady himself. Dean’s cotton sleep shirt is soft, and the sand covering his feet is warm.

Dean’s gaze darts down to Castiel’s navy silk pajama top and fastens two loose buttons exposing his pentagram tattoo. A blush tinges Dean’s skin, red-pink on tan. Shadows and blood orange sunlight play across his jawline and freckled nose, but Dean can’t look away from Castiel.

“Have I ever told you,” Dean mumbles, “how good you look in the mornings?”

Castiel cocks his head to the side, regarding Dean curiously. “Did you forget to change out the kitchen lights?”

Dean’s lashes hood his sheepish gaze. “I can make a mean omelet to make it up to you.”

Castiel narrows his eyes, tipping his head up to reach Dean’s slightly taller level. “I want bacon.”

A flash of desire came and went behind Dean’s eyes. He remembers the same thing Castiel does: how Castiel found Dean gorging on bacon two weeks earlier, the morning after they made love for the first time.

Sasha and her friends Roman and Emma had taken note of his happier mood that day and asked suspiciously, ‘did you do something you’re going to regret later?’

Castiel shook his head slowly. ‘I still have my wits about me. I’m being careful.’

Sasha was inclined to believe him when Dean visited The Roadhouse after his shift at the auto body shop and was as attentive as ever. Castiel picked and chose when to reciprocate.

Dean’s mouth upturns in a smile. “Bacon, huh? I can dig that. Coming right up, my liege.”

Castiel bats his lashes at one of the many terms of endearment Dean kept in his head like a grocery list. “Then you have to get to work, right?”

Dean hums. “I’ll change the lightbulbs before I go this time.”

“Good boy,” Castiel teases, rising to his toes and daring to press his lips to Dean’s cheek. He lowers back to his regular height and reminds Dean, “I’m going to get another tattoo with Sasha and Gina tonight. Promise you won’t sulk at the house alone.”

Dean closes a hand around Castiel’s wrist. His hand points an index finger, holding back a smile. Dean takes Castiel’s hand and drags it over his chest, forming an X with his finger.

“Cross my heart,” Dean says. “Gonna add more feathers?”

Castiel nods in affirmation. “I know how you like them.”

But that isn’t the express reason why Castiel has feather tattoos to signify angel wings on his back. It’s because it reminds Castiel every day what he’s been through. Despite having some celestial power, it wasn’t enough to wipe away ink and purify his vessel’s skin.

Something faraway reaches Dean’s eyes, but it disappears in seconds.

Castiel says, “this is real.”

Dean’s gaze solidified as he studies Castiel from toe to head. Castiel doesn’t rush him, practically purring in delight at the way Dean looks at him now, as if ready to take him to the bedroom and curl his toes in pleasure as they kiss.

Dean smiles genuinely. “We are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
